Chapter 25

Charles Oakley slowly descended the stairs, peering down cautiously to see who was nearby. The only person he saw was Charlie, who was on her way to the dining room. As soon as she noticed him, she stopped mid-step and waited for him to join her.

"Hello, Charlie," he muttered, inconspicuously folding a piece of paper and placing it in his coat.

"I was wondering if you were coming down," she said with a slight grin.

"Why wouldn't I?" he replied, opening the door to the dining room for her.

"Oh, no reason. You just have been acting…" She glanced around, noticing that the dining room was silent and her voice was rather piercing in comparison. "Rather peculiar today…" she continued, checking her volume.

"I see," he mumbled, pulling her chair out for her before sitting next to her. "Just a little tired, dear."

"I do hope it came out all right," Emma said fretfully as she placed a rather crispy pork roast in the middle of the table.

"It looks divine, Emmy," Charles said with a charming smile. "As always."

Approximately halfway through the dinner, Charles was struck with an idea. He turned his eyes to Charlie, who had been quiet all through the meal. In order to conceal the intensity that he felt would be noticeable in his tone he smiled once more.

"Charlie," he began hesitantly. She looked up from her plate, her eyes brightened. "I was… just wondering if you had any plans for the evening."

"No, none at all. Why?"

"Oh, I was just…" He rubbed his napkin between his fingers, trying to think of a reason for his inquiry. "Wondering if you were planning on leaving the house."

"No. I wasn't planning to. Why? Would you like to take me somewhere?"

Ann glanced up with a small grin, immediately observing the fact that Charlie seemed a bit too eager when she asked this.

"I wasn't planning on going anywhere, dear. I was just wondering if you were going anywhere."

"No, I don't think so. I was just planning on going to bed early."

She was slightly intrigued by his peculiar questioning, but did not want to pry.

As soon as dinner was over, Charles quickly disappeared from the dinner table and made his way to the coat closet. He glanced about the room, assuring that no one had entered. He rifled through several jackets until he located Charlie's coat. He shuffled through his pockets until he found the paper he had previously hidden. He folded it again and placed it in one of the gloves he found within the coat's pocket. Footsteps could suddenly be distinguished moving in the direction of the closet and as soon as he perceived this, Charles closed the door and moved towards the stairs.

"Going upstairs so soon?" Charlie asked, gazing up at him as he made his way to the top step.

"Just for a while, dear. I think I might lie down."

"All right." She watched him with a slight grin until he had disappeared. She was about to lounge on the sofa when she heard her mother's voice calling her from the kitchen, distressed. "What is it, Mother?" she called, struggling to her feet and moving towards the kitchen.

"I just remembered something," Emma cried solemnly. "It was supposed to be a wedding surprise for you."

"What is it, Mother?"

"The necklace! I was supposed to pick up the necklace from the jeweler's weeks ago!"

"What necklace?"

"For your wedding! The necklace that all Oakley women wear on their wedding days. I sent it to the jewelers several weeks ago and meant to pick it up but… I completely forgot!"

"Oh, that's not such a problem, Mother," Charlie assured her with a bright smile. "I'll pick it up for you tomorrow morning."

"No, my dear. I have to pick it up tonight! The jeweler, Mr. Franklin, is going to the east coast for a month. It's his yearly vacation. I can't believe I forgot about it!"

"Oh Mother," Charlie said fretfully. "Of all times to remember. When is he leaving?"

"Not till Monday. But today is Saturday and he usually doesn't open his shop on Sundays."

"Oh Mother!" Charlie exclaimed. "This is quite the predicament. But can't you pick it up when he returns?"

"I suppose I could," she mumbled. "But I really don't like to leave something that valuable in a closed jeweler's shop for a month." Charlie crossed to the coat closet with an annoyed sigh. "Where are you going?" Emma asked enthusiastically.

"Well, if you need to have the necklace, I better go now before he closes the shop." She glanced at the clock hanging above the mantle in the living room. "Oh dear. It's almost seven-thirty. I hope he hasn't closed shop yet."

"I think he closes at eight. If you go now you might just make it in time."

Charlie placed her coat over her shoulders and moved swiftly towards the front door.

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Charlie pulled her arms through her coat sleeves as she slowly strolled towards her house, safely clutching the necklace's case in one hand. The sun was no longer visible and the sudden darkness motivated her to walk a bit more swiftly. As she approached her street, she felt the sudden compulsion to peer down at the necklace. She opened the box gently, so as to avoid dropping the precious heirloom onto the streets. She smiled softly, rubbing her finger over the opal, which was encircled by a dainty ring of pearls. The necklace was undoubtedly beautiful, but for some reason, she could not picture it hanging about her throat. Her mother undoubtedly looked divine wearing it, as well as her grandmother and every other Oakley woman who had been fortunate enough to wear it with a sweet, radiant expression. But if Charlie had worn it as originally planned, she could hardly picture herself smiling. In fact, it would have been the biggest mistake of her life… one that she admittedly was glad to be saved from.

As she made her way up the porch steps, she was about to reach for the doorknob when she realized that her glove had dropped from her pocket. She lifted it from the porch and was about to shove it back into the pocket when she perceived a stiff, creased object within it. She reached into the glove with her thumb and index finger, only to find a single sheet of paper, which had been folded several times. After placing the necklace on a small table near the front door, Charlie returned to the porch and unfolded the paper curiously. After several minutes, her cheeks had turned alarmingly pale. She struggled to prevent her eyes from moistening, took a deep breath, and bravely entered the house, storming up the stairs towards her bedroom.

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Charles was stretched across the bed, smoking his cigar with a rather pensive expression on his somber features when he heard persistent pounding on his door.

"Come in," he called. Charlie opened the door and stood in the doorway, staring at him furiously. "Charlie…" he began, attempting to smile, though he found it difficult not to stare at her with utter astonishment.

"I'd just like to tell you that I think it was…well-planned… for you to take the time to give me a brief explanation of why you're abandoning us. Because if you had simply disappeared without so much as a good-bye, I might have reason to believe that you're the cruelest, most inconsiderate person I've ever met. But this…" She lifted the letter angrily, her tone becoming more and more sarcastic as her aggravation increased. "This makes a difference. I don't know how you ever came to be so thoughtful." Before he could reply, she vanished from the doorway and skipped down the stairs speedily, well aware that he was following (or rather, chasing) her. Though she moved quickly, he had managed to catch up with her by the time she had crossed the front yard.

"Charlie, will you at least listen to me?" he demanded, taking her by the arm with an injurious grip.

"Why should I? This letter makes it all perfectly clear!" she exclaimed, tugging her arm away violently.

"It wasn't my intention to abandon you."

"Oh really?" she asked, staring up at him with amazement. "Well then please explain what this is all about! Because I've been led to believe that that's exactly what you're planning to do."

"Don't you understand me? I have to leave you! After all that's happened-" Charles quickly glanced around, suddenly aware that anyone might be watching. "Come here." He took her arm once more and led her to the porch. "Look, I really do wish that I could explain this to you, Charlie. But I can't. It would be too much of a shock for you."

"I'm not a child anymore," she said, frustrated. "I can handle the truth. If you don't care about me or anyone else who loves you here, then I guess I'll try to accept that. But I think I deserve a better form of farewell from you than a few words on a piece of paper."

Charles gazed into her sharp, agitated eyes, suddenly struck with the urge to fold her in his arms as he had done several weeks before. However, he resisted this temptation, only allowing himself to gently brush a strand of hair from her forehead. She turned her face from him irritably.

"Don't touch me," she whispered miserably, crossing towards the door.

"Charlie, I'll tell you the truth," he said bluntly, able to contain himself no longer.

She turned and peered at him, trying to conceal her curiosity, for she was still quite livid. "Truth? That's a first for you, isn't it?"

"I'll tell you everything. Everything that I've been trying to hide for your own good. I won't promise that you'll be happy to hear any of it, but I… I can't leave with you thinking that I don't care about you or your family."

She took a step closer to him, absent-mindedly placing the letter on the banister's ledge. "It's your family too, you know."

He shifted his eyes to the floor, smiling bitterly. "Not exactly, dear."

She raised an eyebrow softly. "What?"

"Come upstairs with me. There's something that I think you should probably see."

Though she attempted to remain cool with him, she quickly found herself taking his arm as he led her inside, completely forgetting about the letter that she had abandoned on the banister's ledge.